Pillow Fight
Docking Hub - Comorro Station - Comorro Station Comorro Station isn't exactly a station. It doesn't remain in any one place for a significant span of time. It is, in all accuracy, a massive starship - incapable of atmospheric flight - that has been roaming the stars on a voyage that some say has lasted for more than 90-million years. The vessel is a Yaralu, a sentient spacefaring vessel. Her true full name cannot be spoken in a single day, but is shortened for convenience to Comorro. Several epochs ago, after her final era of fertility ended, she converted the gray-green ribbed chamber of her womb into a docking hub for smaller Yaralu and non-organic vessels. She made it known to the denizens of Hiverspace that she would serve as a neutral outpost for traders and diplomats. Use of energy and projectile weapons is prohibited aboard Comorro. Violators will be absorbed into the vessel's nutrient replenishment matrix. She is capable of monitoring almost all chambers within the station for illegal weapons, but some areas - such as the Forgotten Quarter - are lost to her neural pathways and sensory organs. Snowstreak twinges his whiskers lightly, looking towards Newt as he hops around on one foot. He takes in a light breath and twinges his ears lightly, tail swishing slowly back and forth behind him. Newt continues on, hopping off across the pad. Alastair limps across the docking bay, moving at an unhurried pace. He catches sight of Snowstreak and makes his way in that direction with a mild smirk on his face. Snowstreak ear-perks gently and then looks to Al, his head tilting before he offers a gentle wave. His whiskers go forward as he offeers one of those little mews that probably mean something b ut its too unimportant to translate. Newt keeps on making his hoppity hop hop way towards the tradeport, swapping legs occasionally. Alastair turns his head to stare at Newt as he continues walking, and the other man continues hopping. "What, nobody brought any jump-ropes or hula-hopes with?" He sneers, rolling his eyes at the sight. "Nice frog-suit, by the way." He walks up alongside Snowsterak, and nods to the Demarian. "Bet his mommy made it for him." Snowstreak head-tilts quietly and then looks down to Al before continuing to look quizzically after Newt. He gives a meek shrug and mewfs softly, making a few gestures with his paws and sifting his tail about in an arc synonymous with 1/4x^2 - 3 Newt snorts and replies, "Go bite yourself." Hop, hop, hop... Alastair shrugs back at Snowstreak, and continues to smirk in Newt's direction. "At least it's not a frilly pink dress." He opines with a shake of his head. "His parents must be so proud. Snowstreak still looks entirely baffled but he finslly looks down to Al and offers one of those quiet little smiles of his. Newt turns around, "Leave my parents out of it, butt-face." Alastair raises his eyebrows at that remark. "Did you hear that, Slypaw?" He says in a deeply sarcastic mock-concerned tone. "Such shocking language from the youth. I mean, really." He shakes his head and clicks his tongue sadly. "Something must be done. Quick! Bring me a philosopher and some hemlock!" Jest makes her way in from the Tradeport. Her strides are long, focused and ground devouring as she makes her way towards the Artemis. Newt hehs, "Hope you take a good, long drink." He turns and resumes the hop thang. Snowstreak ear-quirks then smiles brightly, his head throwing back as he laughs hard and long. The Demarian swishes his tail slowly behind him as he mmms, finding that barb quite funny. If only from a fact that Al said hemlock. Alastair smirks and rubs his chin. "Kids these days." He says in his best mocking impression of a crochety old person - the cane helps with that. "No respect for their elders." He rubs his chin and frowns. "Although I guess there's a good chance he was born a thousand years before me, so I'm not sure how that would work out. What do you think, Slypaw?" He glances at Snowstreak and then shakes his head. Jest glances over to the two and, smiling faintly, blows them both a kiss. Then she's boarding Artemis and heading on her way. Snowstreak ear-flits gently before he mews and blushes a bit to the kiss. He hmmms and swishes his tail softly behind him, its rhythm gentle and quiet and peaceful. "What's wrong with you?" Alastair asks, turning to look at Snowstreak with a frown. "That's ridiculous. You're not even the same species." He rolls his eyes, and then says with a smug air of authority. "That was obviously at me." Snowstreak skews his ears then mewfs? He reaches down and bops Al lightly at the back of he head before he points at himself, then interlaces his claws and cradles them beneath his cheeks, fluttering his eyes. He then points deliberately at himself as his tail flicks quickly behind him. Alastair snorts and shakes his head. "Get real, furball." He insists with a sardonic smirk. "I'm telling you, it's the cane." He waves the illuminated walking stick at the demarian's chest for emphasis. "Chicks /dig/ the cane. Makes me look like a gentleman." He twirls the cane between his fingers before planting it back on the ground and leaning snobbishly against it. Snowstreak mewfs! He grrrrs then reaches behind him, lifting his tail and shaking it at Al as if present it as evidence. He then points at his cheek and turns his muzzle up hoitily Naoi returns from the Artemis, eyepatch dangling about her throat like a necklace. She's busy putting the finishing touches on her dress, pulling on her coat. The Zero-gee's hatch opens with a hiss and out comes Bri, the little Sivadian dragging a full sized matress through the open hatch and down the ramp A well dressed Lucius walks down the ramp of the Tharsis, as he buttons up the wrists on his shirt. He looks around, briefly, before heading towards the Artemis at an easy pace. Alastair and Snowstreak are just standing on the landing pad, seemingly arguing about something. "Oh, please." Alastair folds his arms across his chest and shakes his head again. "You think so?" He puts his fingers on his chin for a few seconds, looking thoughtful. "But I'm still the snappier dresser. Has to be me." Snowstreak smirks and pffffts before he reaches down and flicks his claw against one of the gold buttons upon the Sivad's jacket. He wears a very playful grin before he gestures his paws down over his frame, showing the chique fabric of his lab coat and the way it casually drapes off his strong Demarian shoulders. Naoi shrugs, more a rolling of her shoulders then anything, then pulls her eyepatch up and sets it in place. She then turns, and pulls something out of the airlock. A pillow, standard-issue bunk comfort, thin and covered with a pale white sleeve. She seals the hatch behind her. Opposite, the Kamikaze's hatch opens, revealing Kit within the space. She already has her weapon in hand - a fluffier version of Naoi's pillow, in a light blue cover, clutched lazily by one corner. As she eyes the area around the Artemis and spies Naoi emerging, a small tight smile emerges before she is making her way down to the deck to meet the woman. "Naoi." Lucius greets the Fastheldian woman, coming to a stop in front of the Artemis's hatch. "Think you could beg permission of your Captain that I might go inside?" He crosses his arms over his chest, eyes staring right at her. Bri drags that mattress down to the landing pad and into the center of it, positioning it as best she can before running back up into the Zero-gee Naoi looks to Lucius at the request, eyebrow arching, and then looks over his shoulder at Kit. A moment passes, and she pulls up the collar of her coat, muttering into it. After a second, she turns back and taps in the code, clearing entrance. "Go ahead, Master Lucius." She then gracefully passes him, heading for Kit as well. Alastair smirks at the Demarian. "Oh yeah, great labcoat" He says with a grin. "But I'm telling you, it's my handsome sivadian looks that drew her eye." He turns to nod towards the Artemis, "Why, I..." Spotting Naoi with the pillow he stops, frowns slightly, and then turns to glance at Kit and Bri as well. "Well that's interesting." "Well my thanks to you, Naoi." Lucius says, voice deadpan. He pops the hatch open and walks into the ship. Snowstreak ear-quirks softly and lets his attention draw towards Bri as well. His head tilts lightly as he mews? then looks back to Al. He prods him again and mmphs, smirking with tail continuing to swish behind him It's only a moment later that Bri returns again, another mattress being dragged behind her, out the hatch and down the ramp. Kit comes to a stop as soon as Naoi reaches easy speaking distance, giving the Fastheldian a cool nod before her gaze is inevitably drawn toward the activity surrounding Bri and the mattresses. Her head tilts after a moment, and then a short snicker disguised as a snort emerges. "Maybe we should let her have an honorary shot with a pillow as well. She seems more devoted to this endeavor than either of us." Alastair watches the developing scene, and then turns his head to look at Slypaw. "Allright, Cat." He says with a sharp nod, and holds his hands out to the Demarian. "We'll call that one a draw, but only because you /know-ho-ho/ we both want to see what's going on." He cocks his head to the side, and raises an eyebrow. "You find us seats. I'll get the drinks." "I am not against the idea." Naoi remarks darkly, tone wry. "The intentions have been twisted by your ridiculous choice, and she seems set to take some preverse amusement from it all. I would not be surprised to learn that thier is a betting pool. I am glad to see that you had the good sense not to follow their 'dress code', at the very least. They were trying to convince me to wear some ridiculous sleeping apparel for this." Snowstreak grins coyly to Al before he nods and wanders towards the mattresses at a playful pace. His ears quirk forward as he looks to Bri with a quizzical tilt of his head. He then looks down to the mattresses, towards the ship, then back to Bri. He reaches down, lifts a corner of the mattress and lets it drop back down to the ground again. Once more, he looks back to Bri questioningly. Bri gets that mattress in place, stopping to look up at Snow, "Aye? You want to help Doc?" she asks curiously. "I could use at least one more matress out here...to go just so..you see?" she asks, indicating where the other matress should be. "Then I can get changed. Oh! And don't forget, I'm taking bets if you want. Three to one odds against Naoi." with this she runs back up the ramp and into the ship "The intentions? How kind of you to bring them up. Just what *were* your intentions in calling this fiasco into being in the first place?" Kit returns promptly with a sly, sideways look toward Naoi. "Oh, believe me, that was the first ounce of sense I had seen from you yet when Bri related your refusal. It had restored some hope for an amicable conclusion to this." Alastair heads towards the Zero Gravitas at a quick clip. He passes Bri, makes his way up the ramp of the Zero G, and dissapears inside. He makes his reappearance after a few minutes, carrying small cooler with a half-dozen bottles jutting out of the top. Naoi doesn't give Kit the satisfaction of a response, whether to spite her or because she doesn't have an answer is left for one's personal opinion. Or perhaps she just wishes to get this all under way. "This is the decided point of combat?" Snowstreak heads into the Gravitas alongside Bri then wanders out but a few moments later, dragging a big ole mattress. His tail lifts with every tug, walking it down the ramp while smiling to himself. He has no idea what is going on but it involves beds and pillows- it can't be a bad thing, right? Quicksilver is finally too curious to remain aboard his vessel, the hatch of the Streak cycling to allow the armored felinoid to make his way down the ramp, whiskers fanning and ears perking towards the activity on the flight deck. He strolls that direction with an unhurried pace. And behind Snow comes Bri. Her attire has changed now, and in each hand she has a silky pillow, each made with what could equate to a handle of sorts. She makes her way down to where the mattresses are settled, robe swishing out behind her as she walks, and she offers a smile to the two ladies about to duel, "Evening," she offers in greeting, a deep and respectful bow offered. "It seems that Miss Sabrina has already determined that quite handily," Kit answers with a sharp-edged levity which may seem somewhat at odds to her usually dour demeanor, eyeing the preparations before inclining her head wryly in return to Bri. "And the rules?" she asks with a crooked grin toward Naoi. "No name-calling, hair-pulling, or insults to one's ancestors? Or would you prefer a free-for-all? Buffeting until one calls 'yield' or until full collapse?" Alastair comes to a stop, cane in one hand and cooler in the other. He glances at Snowstreak as the Demarian drags out another mattress. "Well Slypaw?" He asks with a smirk. "You were supposed to find a couple of chairs." He looks at Naoi and Kit, and then over to Bri. "Looks like they'll be starting soon. Don't want to miss it, do you?" "That is up to our neutral observer," Naoi responds, bowing first to Kit and then to Sabrina. She turns to face the line of ships, pillow tossed up on her shoulder at ready. Snowstreak smiles quietly at Al but only winks slightly before he points at the cooler. He then flumps down in perfect feline fashion near the mattresses. Snowstreak haz a front row seating. Quicksilver's nostrils flare as he scents those gathered, before he comes to a halt in the nearby vicinity, finding a convenient cargo crate to lean against as he crosses his arms over his chest to wait patiently for what will transpire. Bri smiles brightly up at the two, her eyes looking between them and she offers up the pillows, "These will be the weapons tonight ladies. This so that all will be fair. Nobody will be cheating this way. Other than that, I say free for all, unless one of you has a rule you wish to implement before the procedings start?" From the IND Raider's Hatch Intercom, Vadim says: "Fifty creds on Naoi!" Alastair shakes his head as he walks over and drops the cooler next to Snowstreak. "What, not even a couple of lawn chairs?" He grips as he leans on his cane and lowers himself to the ground on the other side of the drinks. Kit's brows rise at the bow, but she simply gives a smirk in response to the formalities before turning a questioning look upon Sabrina. "Madame?" she directs toward the Fastheldian to see if she accepts the conditions, the title drawled with a hint of mockery for the strict adherance to etiquette. "I am amenable to the condition." Naoi drops her own armament without complaint, and takes the pillow in hand, tensing at the sudden voice from one of the ships. She cautiously peeks up, and if possible, her expression is even more displeased as her hypothesis was proven correct. Still, she swings the new cushion a few times, familarizing herself with it's weight. "I am content with the designated limitations." Snowstreak grins playfully as he looks up, watching the pair with a warm grin. Though he turns a glance back to Al and points at the cooler one more time before he looks back towards the potential fight to be. He looks interested Bri offers a polite nod to the two ladies, and when Vadim places his bet, her smile brightens, "I'll accept that!" she calls back to him. Then turning to the small crowd that's gathering around the arena that is the mattresses set up for the duel, she takes in a deep breath and shouts out, "Betting is now open! Three to one odds against Naoi!" Newt comes out of the Fo- well.. he bolts out of the Fox, down the ramp and over to where the death-duel shall take place. Once stopped he takes a moment before saying, "Man. Thought I was gonna miss it." Kit also discards her pillow, giving it a flippant toss over her shoulder as she accepts the 'weapon' extended by Bri. Ignoring the betting from the sidelines, she proceeds into the 'arena'...bouncing slightly to test the mattress' springs before casting Naoi an almost feral grin, the pillow's corners now clutched tightly in both hands. "Ready when you are, darlin'." Alastair gets settled in, dropping his cane down next to him. He grabs one of the bottles, and hands another to snowstreak. Newt's appearance merits a smirk. "Somebody's eager." He says sardonically. "So, who do you favor?" Naoi climbs up on the mattress as well, frowning at the unsure footing, but with an atypical stoic acceptance... accepts that it is simply something to work around. Instead of rushing forward, she takes three quick steps, nearly bouncing on the cushioned surface and swinging her weapon across, much like a sword stroke aimed at the neck. Only, the pillow is wide enough to likely be aiming for her head, and far less likely to be able to have the same fatal effect as a well-treated blade. Snowstreak smiles quietly to Al then points to Naoi. His ears keep perked forward though his smile is quiet. He then points to her then puts his paw on his own arm and spreads his fingers out in a spreading motion. The pillow is hardly as wieldy as a sword. Between the unconventional weapon and the unstable platform, Kit probably saw the motion telegraphed from a mile away - but she seems barely concerned with either blocking or returning the blow. Instead, she ducks...one arm half-raised to try and deflect the incoming blow while she makes a leap for Naoi's midsection with a wild laugh, intent on simply tackling the woman and bringing things up close and personal. Newt replies to Alistair with a shrug, "Don't care." Bri quickly moves out of the way of the start of the duel, turning to face the two women with a light smirk on her lips. Tamila makes her way out of the Zero Gravitas, and it appears that she's trying to set a new nightwear trend as she's got her long sword attached to the usual black silk sword belt at her wait. She glances in the direction of the matresses and the two duelers. Naoi's blow is blocked, and unfamiliar with the terrain of the battlefield, can do little to avoid the tackle. Her feets dig in mercilessly, but the momentum of the attack cannot be stalled, and so the two combatant end up in a situation where the pillows really can't be used effectively. Though, for the sake of the combat, Naoi at least tries. She attempts to slip an arm over Kit's neck, and then clasp down in a headlock, the other hand striking with the unwieldy pillow. Alastair tosses back the bottle and takes a long drink. "You think so?" He comments speculatively, glancing over at Snowstreak. He raises the drink as if in a toost. "Well." he says with the utmost seriousness. "Whomever loses, we win." Newt grins. "Nothing wrong with a good pillow fight." Snowstreak blushes quietly though he looks up towards Bri. You know, sitting on the ground offers a great viewpoint in these kinds of siatuations. Whatever Kit tried to declare next is muffled between Naoi's grip and the battering pillow. The cyberwitch squirms, but her attempts to escape may seem half-hearted to the observant - instead, she tries to give a single, firm thwap of her own pillow over the Fastheldian's face, as if she is trying to smothering the woman one-handed, while her other hand is digging at the woman's ribs...searching for that elusive ticklish spot revealed in last week's pseudo-brawl. Bri looks up when somebody comes out of the ship, and at seeing that it's Tam, she smiles and holds a hand out toward the woman before looking back to the fight, "Nice move!" she calls brightly. Naoi is indeed smacked in the face, spitting and then hissing in surprise, turning her sensitive and remaining eye from the pillow. For the most part, as long as she can see and breath, she does not seem to mind the little pressure Kit can apply from her current situation. Of course, when Kit's hand digs into her ribs, her first reaction is to suspect that she is seeking a handhold in which to toss her, and the hard wrenching on the woman's neck is an almost brutal response to it. Of course, after a second, the sudden burst of motions stills, the woman twitching at Kit's tactical decision, a short and annoyed breathy laugh following the attack at a sensitive bundle of nerves. She drops the pillows, and reaches down to the waistband of Kit's jeans. Two fingers creep in, and grab hold of the underwear underneath. In response to the continued tickling, the woman uses her new handhold to apply another stimulant of discomfort, pulling up and back as hard as she can even as she twitches and tries to avoid the merciless tickling(Seriously, tickling in a duel) that she is forced to endure. Tamila moves over towards Bri, offering a smile of her own and even blushing faintly. She stops beside the short Sivadian and leans a little bit towards her and says in a quiet voice, "I can't believe you talked me coming out here like this." She does keep one eye on the duelers, and she just blinks at Naoi's tactic. "No, certainly not." Alastair agrees with Newt, then catches Snowstreak's reaction and follows the Demarian's gaze. He raises an eyebrow at that, and gives a smirk which he quickly tries to hide by taking another drink of alcohol. The wrench upon her neck draws a sharp growl from Kit, and for a moment the Sivadian's struggles are not so half-hearted at all as she tries to press an elbow into Naoi's diaphragm to win herself some slack. All such plans are forgotten, however, when she hears that first hiccup of hilarity - her own pillow is immediately abandoned as she doubles her attack, literally, by turning both hands upon the Fastheldian's ribs. At least, until the wedgie. With a yelp, she frees one hand to swipe out at Naoi's gripping arm, trying to knock it aside...but even while she is under attack, she seems oddly dogged in her tickling efforts. Bri smiles up at Tam, giggling softly, "You do look lovely in it though," she replies to the TKer. Snow and Al's talking catch her attention though and she looks over to them with a little wink before returning her attention to the fight. "Oh gods, I say free for all and they go for tickling and wedgies..." she says with a shake of her head. Snowstreak just keeps blushing warmly, watching on and sighing kindly. His tail curls up and over his lap gently as he observes. His head tilts lightly a little bit as he hmmmms, whiskers moving back upon his cheeks The former street rat softly blushes at Bri's comment, and she seems to notice where Bri's glancing. Tamila offers a finger waggle and a sly look of her own towards Snowstreak and Al, before glancing back towards the short Sivadian woman. "I still reckon knives woulda been more interestin'," she quietly drawls. Alastair glances over and raises his beer in Tamila's direction. "Hey there." He says with a smirk, attention almost immediately back on the proceedings. "Great show, huh?" He takes another drink, and then another glance at Bri and Tamila. "Are you two the next event, then?" Naoi's expression, atypically smooth and neutral, flutters through a series of strong impressions. Annoyance, disappointment, despair, forced mirth, and finally determination. Booted feets drill into the mattress, the laughing turning desperate as air is spent at a rapid pace between muscling the other woman about, and suffering through the dedicated assault. She releases the wedgie, hand balling into a fist but refraining by concious decision at raining blows at the sensitive area at the back of the skull. Instead, in a strangled giggle-hiss that sounds as if a hydra was just let in on a private joke by Herculese, the headlock releases, and she attempts to get both legs underneath her and push up and away to get off her with the assistance of all four of her limbs in one great surge. "Tickling is *gigglesnort* illegal! Stop cheating, you spawn of a backwood's farmer's cow and his daughter!" Funnily enough, a caveat she forget to make clear when they were deciding on rules at the beginning, for all her righteous fury and lineage mocking. Newt just shakes his head and protests, "Aw, c'mon. Meant to be a pillow fight and stuff." Kit is gasping by the time she is released from the cramped position, almost as if she too is withholding guffaws by now. But with a few clumsy kicks and flops, she pursues the Fastheldian as determinedly as any scrawny rat terrier, never mind the residual discomfort from the woman's attack. Her advantage is obvious and she is not about to let that go for a simple wedgie. "S'that...the best you can do? Cows an' farmer's girls?" she pants with a crazed grin, trying to keep Naoi off-balance enough that she never makes it to her feet whiler her fingers remain on the offensive. "Mika does better...just asking for a beer!" Bri laughs, "Aye, but much messier," she replies to Tam with a little wink. Tamila raises a hand up and gives Alastair the Finger, and a sweet smile to go with it. "In your dreams, Al. In your dreams." Her attention returns to the pillow/wrestling match and she shakes her head. "Seriously, what's the point of... Wait, I'll get my camera!" With that, the TK native darts back towards the Zero Gravitas. Alastair barely even seems to notice Tamila's gesture, but he gives her a sickly sweet smile of his own. "Oh, you can bet on that." He raises an eyebrow, and calls after her. "Why not put on your kitty costume while you're at it. Slypaw would like that, right Slypaw?" He glances down, and reaches ove to nudge the Demarian. "Figures." He mutters, shaking his head and looking back to the fight. "You pass out before it's even over." Naoi manages to get to a kneeling position, halfway back to her feet, when Kit tenaciously pounces her again and slams her down. Once past her guard, Kit's tickling is far more effective, and Naoi's strikes in return have alot more force, backwards elbow strikes, and kicks at the shin and feet. She even rolls into half-guard, but Kit maintains the mount, slapping ineffectively with the pillow, then smashing it against the other woman's face and applying pressure, abbreviated strangling, a tactic similiar to Kit's. It is worth noting that she does so with Kit's pillow, and not her own. In the end, even though the one-eyed girl is not an easy cat to tame, the Cyberwitch wins the battle of attrition, the lone gray orb wet from laughter and cheeks closer to a unnatural hue that suggests the first phase of asphyxiation. "I... yield!" Newt raises his eyebrows, "You give up already?" There's a hint... heavy hint of disappointment to his voice. Kit, in return, gives no quarter as soon as Naoi begins using her elbows and feet in earnest. As soon as she manages to secure her position atop, she tries to pin the woman with her knees and weight in the most uncomfortable places manageable while maintaining that relentless tickle attack. When the pillow is brought into play, she openly scoffs - at least, until the first full-faced thwap of it. For a split second, she starts to rear back from the deceptively innocuous weapon before she utters a wild, devil-may-care whoop into its muffling depths and redoubling her attack. When her tenacity finally pays off as the concluding words are spoken, she is immediately flings herself away with wheezing laughs between her pants for air. "I...accept..." she gasps with a wide, cheshire grin; swaying before simply flopping over, still trying desperately to draw breath. Bri smirks over at Al when Tam replies so kindly, "You never know..we might make you the next act," she says with a giggle. Her attention returns to the fight though, eyes brightening with anticipation of the outcome and when Kit flops over she runs into the makeshift arena, "The winner! Kittianna!" she declares loudly. Tamila slips a hand behind herself to keep the bottom of the nightie from showing off too much. Though she pauses and looks back towards Alastair at his remark. "Sorry, I'm not into interspecies relationships," she says in a friendly tone. "If you want, I can put together one for you. I'm sure you'd look really cute." Then Bri's announcement of a victory causes the TKer to turn and sigh, before trudging back down to the bottom of the ramp with a look of disappointment evident on her face. Newt frowns, shoulders slumping. "Bugger." and runs back towards the Fox. Naoi is on all fours, taking in great big gulping breaths as she attempts to get her wind back in. Hair falling over her face covers most of her expression, one hand rising to fix her eyepatch, which in the scuffle has gone askew. Kit couldn't care less what Naoi is doing now that her opponent has been defeated. She simply lies there and struggles to gulp for breath - as if she had just run three miles instead of simply participating in a three minute wrestling match. Alastair simply waves over his shoulder at Tamila as she departs back into the ship. He continues watching the mattress-arena with interest. He tosses his empty bottle into the cooler and grabs a new one, which he opens and takes a drink from. Bri smiles, "There should be a prize for the winner," she says with a giggle, "But what?" she seems to ponder this for a moment. Naoi recovers faster then Kit, quietly slipping off the bed and heading for the Artemis, one hand pressed to her side. Kit's eyes finally slit open when she feels Naoi's weight shift off the mattresses, but other than rolling her head to follow the woman's departure, she seems almost indifferent now to the whole affair. Instead, she rolls wearily onto her side, pausing for a moment as if to gather her strength, before pushing herself as well and wobbling out of the 'arena'; a wheezing rasp still dogging her breaths. "Can't be...a sore winner. Give it t'her," she husks flippantly with a negligent wave after the Fastheldian. Bri watches Naoi go, her head tilting to one side, "Leaving already?" she asks. "No fun..." she looks to Kit, "I'll have to get you something...and then get her a consolation prize." Alastair remains seated where he is, still smirking mildly and taking a sip of his drink every now and then. He gives a sideways glance at Bri. "Oh, definitely." He says in a tone that's slightly too helpful to be sincere. "You've got to have prizes. Otherwise what's the point?" Naoi turns back finally, an abrupt turning on her heel. Three quick steps, blowing right by Bri, and then up against Kit. One arm goes around her waist, and if the other woman will let her, tosses Kit's over her shoulder. With assistance, perhaps the trek back will not be such a struggle. "It is not important, Mistress Sabrina." Kit gets enough presentiment to start leaning away from Naoi's approach, a frown just beginning to come over her face. But managing little more than a stumble in her weakened and distracted state, she can only utter a short yelp of protest before it is cut off in an *oof* as the rest of her air is forced out while she is folded over the woman's shoulder like a limp washrag. "Have a good night?" Bri calls after Kit and Naoi. "Thanks for the fun." The entertainment finished, Alastair grabs his cane in one hand and the bottle in the other and staggers drunkenly to his feet. He gives the unconscious Snowstreak a kick with his cybernetic leg, and still failing to wake him grabs what's left of his drinks and meanders in a non-linear fashion back to his ship. At least, it's probably his ship. Bri grabs the side of one of the mattresses and starts dragging, "Well..that was some good entertainment," she says with a soft chuckle as she heads for the Zero Gravitas. Category:Logs